‘She would be.’ The General chuckled. ‘She could be a regular little devil when she liked when she was a girl.’
He sighed.
‘Devilish business, getlg old. One of my sister’s friends used to get fancies, poor old thing. Used to say she’d killed somebody.’
‘Good Lord,’ said Tommy. ‘Had she?’
‘Oh, I don’t suppose so. Nobody seems to think she had. I suppose,’ said the General, considering the idea thoughtfully, ‘I suppose she might have, you know. If you go about saying things like that quite cheerfully, nobody would believe you, would they? Entertaining thought that, isn’t it?’
‘Who did she think she’d killed?’
‘Blessed if I know. Husband perhaps? Don’t know who he was or what he was like. She was a widow when we tn’st came to know her. Well,’ he added with a sigh, ‘sorry to hear about Ada. Didn’t see it in the paper. If I had I’d have sent flowers or something. Bunch of rosebuds or something of that kind.
That’s what girls used to wear on their evening dresses. A bunch of rosebuds on the shoulder of an evening dress. Very pretty it was. I remember Ada had an evening dress – sort of hydrangea colour, mauvy. Mauvy-blue and she had pink rosebuds on it. She gave me one once. They weren’t real, of course. Artificial. I kept it for a long time – years. I know,’ he added, catching Tommy’s eye, ‘makes you laugh to think of it, doesn’t it. I tell you, my boy, when you get really old and gaga like I am, you get sentimental again. Well, I suppose I’d better toddle off and go back to the last act of this ridiculous show.
Best regards to Mrs T. when you get home.’
In the train the next day, Tommy thought back over this conversation, smiling to himself and trying again to picture his redoubtable aunt and the fierce Major-General in their young days.
‘I must tell Tuppence this. It’ll make her laugh,’ said Tommy. ‘I wonder what Tuppence has been doing while I’ve been away?’
He smiled to himself. ‘,l II
The faithful Albert opened the front door with a beaming smile of welcome.
‘Glad to see you back, sir.’ ‘I’m glad to be back -‘ Tommy surrendered his suitcase – ‘Where’s Mrs Beresford?’ ‘Not back yet, sir.’ ‘Do you mean she’s away?’ ‘Been away three or four days. But she’ll be back for dinner.
She rang up yesterday and said so.’ ‘What’s she up to, Albert?’ ‘I couldn’t say, sir. She took the car, but she took a lot of railway guides as well. She might be anywhere, as you might say.’ ‘You might indeed,’ said Tommy with feeling. ‘John o’ Groat’s – or Land’s End – and probably missed the connection at Little Dither on the Marsh on the way back. God bless British Railways. She rang up yesterday, you say. Did she say where she was ringing from?’ ‘She didn’t say.’ ‘What time yesterday was this?’ ‘Yesterday morning. Before lunch. Just said everything was all fight. She wasn’t quite sure of what time she’d get home, but she thought she’d be back well before dinner and suggested a chicken. That do you all fight, sir?’ ‘Yes,’ said Tommy, regarding his watch, ‘but she’ll have to make it pretty quickly now.’ ‘I’ll hold the chicken back,’ said Albert.
Tommy grinned. ‘That’s fight,’ he said. ‘Catch it by the tail.
How’ye you been, Albert? All well at home?’ ‘Had a scare of measles – But it’s all fight. Doctor says it’s only strawberry rash.’ ‘Good,’ said Tommy. He went upstairs, whistling a tune to himself. He went into the bathroom, shaved and washed, strode from there into the bedroom and looked around him. It had that curious look of disoccupancy some bedrooms put on when their owner is away. Its atmosphere was cold and unfriendly. Everything was scrupulously tidy and scrupulously clean. Tommy had the depressed feeling that a faithful dog might have had. Looking round him, he thought it was as though Tuppence had never been. No spilled powder, no book cast down open with its back splayed out.
‘Sir.’ It was Albert, standing in the doorway.